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April 28, 2007

DRAFT WEEKEND! DRAFT WEEKEND! WOOOOO!

We bought (turkey) kielbasa and Klondike bars (mmm, Isaly's) for the occasion. We were wandering around the grocery store, trying to think of Pittsburgh food we could eat this weekend, and these were the only 2 items we came up with on the fly.

Anyway, I am off to yell at the extremely slow action on the teevee and knit away at Flair and enjoy the last bit of football I'll get until August. XOXOXO.

April 27, 2007

All I really want to do is stay home under a blanket and watch Match Game reruns and eat crackers. Well, all right, that's about all I ever want to do, Match Game is SO BEST, but the point is, I have a headache.

But! The debate last night was fab, do you not agree? I felt bad for Edwards since he didn't get to talk much (and I love him), was baffled by the old guy (who the fuck was that guy?), thought Hillary NAILED IT (better than even I expected, and my expectations were high), was a little disappointed by Obama (never really got to get going, did he?), and was really impressed with Kucinich (and his smokin' hot wife, OMFG).

Really, I was a little relieved that Kucinich comported himself so well because I did vote for him in the Massachusetts primary in 2004, which were held ridiculously late and so Kerry had already become the presumptive nominee months back. Consequently, my Kucinich vote was a protest vote. The only candidates still on the ballot by that point who had a chance with me were Sharpton and Kucinich, and since Mr. Pink was going with Sharpton (surely an anomaly in highly white, highly racist western Massachusetts, we often wonder if it was the sole white male vote cast for Sharpton in the state), I thought I'd toss one to Kucinich. So I have been following his career ever since, hoping he doesn't go insane because, you know, I feel responsible for him by virtue of that one vote, years ago in an election that didn't matter. Because I am a nerd.

April 26, 2007

A few weeks ago, consumed by jealousy over other people's fancy hands, I talked my coworker-friend Nancy into getting a manicure. With fake nails. Mine turned out kind of...uhm...CarmelaEssex County. You know? Kind of...Jersey. And very...long.

But, bolstered by the social approval I received from my workplace friends and the cashiers at Saks last week, I reached a state of zen acceptance of them, against the better nature of my Pittsburgh upbringing.

Until I slammed my finger in the door and knocked the bottom of one loose and then every time I washed my hands I could feel water getting stuck under it and it made me feel like I had scabies or something. It was all I could think about, OMFG, there is water under my nail, there is water under my nail, there is water under my nail.

So I made up my mind to get them off, no matter what. But, my inability to admit defeat to the nail salon (who I paranoidly think had already pegged me as a person who could not handle the fake nails) made me think I should maybe do this at home. How fucking hard could this be, right? I found instructions on the internets for gel nail removal and went over to the Harmon's by my work and got all the tools I needed (along with this Aveda straightening stuff for my hair that smells really weird, but works like magic) and headed home, full of confidence.

Dear readers, it DID. NOT. GO. WELL.

My hands? Crazy-dry from 2 hours in pure acetone. (By the way, kids, word to the newly-wise, do not use a dish you plan on, uhm, ever using again for your acetone soak if you're as much of a fool as I am.)

My nails? Well, there's still some gel on them because after 2 hours of inhaling fumes (which resulted in my actually losing my voice the next day) and burning my skin, not to mention the hour of filing and clipping I did before the soak, I finally gave up. They sort of look like when you put a plastic container in the microwave and it starts to melt into itself. I like to think of it as a "disease of indeterminate origin yet clearly in the final stages" sort of look for my hands.

What is the lesson here? Aside from the rather obvious lesson of not trying to take off your fake nails at home, the real lesson is not to covet other people's fancy hands!

April 25, 2007

When my parents came to visit for Easter, my mom told me that the trees outside my dining room window were magnolias. Is that true? I have no idea, I am nature-retarded. But since the petals all fell off, all we have now are the photos. So pretty.

April 23, 2007

Wow, I didn't know the whackjobs even knew how to use the internets, much less use it for justifying their partisan hyper-conservative agenda!

There are so many levels of crazy in this, I can't really pick which part to talk about, so, uhm, I will just say this, and by the way, it's what I say about 100 times a week to anyone who will listen: it's shit like this that makes it so important for those who actually have Christian values to speak up about these nutso conservative diatribes.

And P.S., Christian values does not equal school prayer ("render unto Caesar...") or any of that other hoo-ha, it's just as simple as not being a dick to other folks and loving God, if you're wondering. Some of us might say that starting a war is not a great example of Christian values, but yanno, they never get tired of talking about Clinton's hummers, so of course, blowjobs always take top-billing in these partisan fake-Jesus bullshit things. (Thanks for the crazypeople link, Erin!)

There are two groups of people who are reliably interested in me in this world, and that's gas station attendants and 5 year old girls. This weekend I went to a wedding shower and found myself the BFF of one of those types of folks. Guess which! Clue: this type of person and I share a love of sparkly pink things.